The Social Network: the kink meme!

It's Complicated: But sexy!

Okay, I'm a little new at this so sorry if I mess this up first go. Because it's been 5 months since the last round even though we haven't been busy. I figured I might as well earn my keep and try to get this place alive again...

IMPORTANT: please DO NOT post prompts about any non-public people as part of a prompt. for example: randi zuckerberg is fine as she is a public figure both on the internet and on facebook itself. priscilla chan is NOT as she is not a public figure.

if you're in doubt, please message the mod or leave a comment in the discussion post.

♥ post requests and responses in the comments to this post. ♥ be respectful. ♥ both a pairing/character AND a prompt/kink must be posted. ♥ one pairing/prompt per comment please. ♥ you are encouraged to try and write a prompt for every request you make. ♥ we are slash, femslash, het, three-and-moresomes etc. friendly. (we are even incest friendly what with some of our characters being twins and all...) ♥ no pairing bashing, OK? no need to wank over ships. ♥ long and short fics welcome. multiple responses encouraged! ♥ please try to refrain from saying 'seconded!' as much as possible. ♥ on RPF: Please disclaim that it is RPF, a work of fiction and in no way related to the actual actors/persons/etc. (i wouldn't even try and discourage RPF from this meme ;)) ♥ WARN FOR COMMON TRIGGERS, PLEASE

♥ please don't embed. link to images/videos. ♥ no locked material. this includes communities, even if membership is open. ♥ fills can be posted anonymously or not. ♥ fills can be anything: fic, art, vid, fanmix, podfic, etc. ♥ all prompts are open to fills at all times, even if they have been filled in the past or are being currently filled by someone else. multiple fills are positively encouraged; if something appeals to you then do not be put off creating a new fill by the existence of a prior one. NEW: ♥ PLEASE comment with the first of your fill to the PROMPT and then all future updates as a comment to the FIRST PART of the fill. this makes it easier for both the WIP spreadhseet and for archiving stuff on delicious. it also helps people who are trying to catch up on updates and don't have to look through every fill on the prompt (should it have more than one). thank you.

Hi, right now everyone is working on some changes so hold on new things are coming. In an effort to kick this place back into action, we're doing round 9. In a few days, we'll be setting up a fills post that hopefully will work directly for archiving and an overflow post. Also we'll be doing a friending meme at tsn_km_gather so be looking out for that. I know some of the other mods have plans of their own which will be coming soon.

If you have any questions or ideas that I can help you with, feel free to PM me. I'll be around.

i know you guys are enjoying this meme and i appreciate that but please can you put the SUBJECT HEADER on your prompt. you would REALLY be helping me out if you could do that. it just saves time for me when i'm trying to tag everything in delicious.

NEW RULE;

PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF THE 'FILL' RULES. THERE HAS BEEN A CHANGE. thank you.

AND PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DO NOT repost prompts from parts three, four, five, six, seven, or eight. the delicious is around for people to find prompts they may not have already seen. We know there's been some issues but we're working on it with pinboard. No duplicates from this round either. THANK YOU.

Eduardo/Mark, Harvard-era

Remember that Friend's episode when Ross and Joey kept napping together because it was so comfortable? That but with Eduardo and Mark accidentally napping, but obviously progressing towards sexy time. So maybe 5+1 Eduardo and Mark were kept napping together or something?

FILL: 5 currently untitled cuddles, Eduardo/Mark 1.1/5

Mark had always been proud of his ability to recover from copious alcohol consumption. Dustin cursed him regularly, but Mark found that there was very little a blazing hot shower, cold grape Gatorade and a strong dose of caffeine couldn’t cure.

However, standing under the pounding hot spray, Red Bull in hand, in the aftermath of night of too much vodka and Halo, Mark was forced to admit that maybe this Saturday morning was going to be the exception to that rule.

He laid on the bathroom floor for a long few minutes, curls dripping into a puddle on the floor while he rested his throbbing temple against the blessedly cool linoleum. He stretched a hand above his head to poke the door open, cool air rushed over him to replace the steam that filled his brain.

The mattress dipped moments after he had finally made it back to bed.

“I’m not sleeping on your fucking couch anymore today,” Eduardo shoved a pillow under his head and rested his elbow over his eyes. “I think I have brain damage.”

“Vodka doesn’t give you brain damage Wardo. This is Harvard, haven’t you learned anything.” Mark snorted and immediately groaned when the sharp intake of breath jostled his own aching brain.

“Not from the Vodka,” Eduardo rolled over to tuck his face more deeply into the pillow and hooked his toes over the foot of the bed. “From your couch that is too short. It is like cartoon furniture, or I’m a cartoon. Something. The angle is wrong. It causes brain damage.”

“Some kind of damage,” Mark smirked, curled on his side facing the window and reached out to awkwardly pet Eduardo’s epic hangover hair.

“There is not enough sympathy here,” Eduardo cracked open one eye to squint out at the empty room. “You are mocking me and my exceptionally damaged brains.”

When Mark woke again the late winter sun was sliding down the wall toward evening. His hand was curled under the soft cotton of Eduardo’s white t-shirt, resting against the steady beat of his heart and his no-longer aching head was pressed against the back of Eduardo’s neck, their legs twined together in sleep.

FILL: 5 currently untitled cuddles, Eduardo/Mark 1.2/5

“Yes,” Mark whispered back, unconsciously running a soothing hand over Eduardo’s side when he stirred.

“I want d-hall food,” the volume of Dustin’s voice grew.

“Dustin,” Mark snatched his hand back like he’d been burned by Eduardo’s warm, smooth skin and Eduardo rolled onto his stomach, burying his head in his pillow, voice muffled by cotton. “Why are you disturbing my hangover nap.”

“I want chicken nuggets,” Dustin’s voice was worryingly closer and Mark rolled on his back to make a space between his body and Eduardo. “Why are you in bed with Mark.”

Shirtless, Dustin stood at the foot of the bed, both hands shoved carelessly in the front of his track pants. “I have such a headache,” Eduardo whined, face still buried in his pillow.

“Wardo has brain damage,” Mark smirked, “the couch gave it to him. Or maybe the vodka gave it to him.”

“The couch wouldn’t do that,” Dustin wandered back toward he and Chris’ room. “We have an understanding.”

“You and the couch have an understanding,” Eduardo lifted his head to stare while Dustin fought to pull on a t-shirt.

“Whatever, asshole, you are in bed with someone who showers very, very occasionally,” Dustin jammed his bare feet in a pair of shoes and pulled a sweatshirt from the back of the couch. “Get up from your cuddle pile, we’re meeting Chris in 15 minutes.”

“Shut up Dustin,” Eduardo grinned as he stood and shoved his arms in Mark’s fleece and moved toward the door.

“There was no cuddling,” Mark muttered as he heaved himself out of bed and grabbed a hoodie from the pile on the floor to sniff.

“Sure looked like cuddling to me,” Dustin cackled gleefully as Mark pulled on the hoodie and jammed his feet in his sandals.

Eduardo tipped his head to rest against the wall next to the door while he waited, “Let’s go please.” He kept his eyes closed as Dustin shuffled past but snapped his head up, eyes suddenly clear and warm as he pushed off the wall and followed Mark into the hallway.

FILL: 5 currently untitled cuddles, Eduardo/Mark 2.1/5

Chris was serious about finals. Chris made lists and charts and a color-coded schedule and if asked he could name the exact score necessary on each of his finals to get an A.

Mark was maybe a little scared at both the quality and quantity of organization Chris put forth where finals were concerned. But Eduardo matched Chris in seriousness. Eduardo saw Chris’ excessively planning and raised with excessive organization.

Eduardo’s preparation pre-dated Chris’ by 3 weeks and involved the meticulous re-reading and re-outlining of each of the chapters his exams would cover along with cross-referencing of all of that information with both previous exams and the notes Eduardo had taken in class.

Mark wanted to mock them. Unfortunately it helped. Eduardo’s painstaking organization provided a foundation for dedicated study time. The structure of the schedule soothed Chris’ nerves and calmed Dustin’s hyperactivity and guaranteed that Mark wouldn’t sleep through his 9 am exam even though he’d been up coding until 3:45 that morning.

So the color coded schedule taped to the fridge dictated their lives. Every time Mark opened the fridge for a Red Bull he stared at his exam schedule, and Dustin’s, and Eduardo’s and Chris’ until he knew unwillingly which test Chris was currently stressing over and could reproduce without much thought Dustin’s hour-by-hour location.

Halfway through finals week Chris had bent his rules enough to allow them to study in Kirkland, instead of traipsing en mass to the library along with everyone else on campus.

In Kirkland Chris sat straight-backed at his desk, bedroom door closed, surface cleared but for the materials necessary for the individual test he was currently studying for. In the common room Dustin was spread out on the floor, his books and notebooks and highlighters aligned precisely with the pattern on the carpet, ears encased in headphones, air drumming the beat of his own drummer.

Mark leaned against the headboard of his bed and tapped his pen lightly against the pages of his History of Roman Civ textbook. Outside snow drifted softly, wind whipping it into tiny hurricanes above the sidewalk, the ambient glow of the streetlights catching and throwing sparks against the window.

Eduardo appeared through the door with a gust of cold air, fluffy snowflakes rested un-melted in the crown of his hair and a stretched smile that betrayed his own level of stress. He waved when Dustin looked up and shook off his coat, draping it across the back of the couch.

FILL: 5 currently untitled cuddles, Eduardo/Mark 2.2/5

He toed off his shoes and quietly settled opposite Mark, pulling a thick bundle of notes from his bag and beginning his systematic review of the material.

At some point during the night Eduardo wrapped a hand loosely around the thin skin of Mark’s foot. His thumb rubbed over the knob of his ankle a point of calming contact Mark hadn’t known he’d wanted.

When he finished reviewing the text Mark moved to sit at his desk. He stole one look at Eduardo through the reflection of his monitor, brown eyes darting across the page, brow wrinkled and pen held loosely in his hand.

The next time Mark leaned back from the keyboard it was hours later, he was anxious to empty his bladder and return to the familiar keys. Eduardo was snoring slightly stretched across the top of the covers, notes abandoned at his side, shirt unbuttoned and loose at his sides and a small sliver of brown skin peeked from between his thin white t-shirt and the waistband of his pants.

For one very confusing moment Mark’s sleep-addled brain imagined his tongue running along Eduardo’s smooth skin, wondered what that spot would taste like and without another though he stood quickly to retreat to the bathroom.

When Mark returned to his code he had lost his single-minded focus. His eyes sagged and he shook his head to clear it and considered pulling a Red Bull from the fridge to fuel the all-nighter.

“You should come to do bed,” Eduardo’s voice was quiet and warm. His eyes flew open when he realized what he’d said and he moved to roll out of bed. “I mean I should go home. And you should sleep here, in this bed, which is yours, where you sleep, alone.”

“Shut up Wardo,” Mark spun in his desk chair. “It’s the middle of the night and it’s snowing and you’ve been studying for hours. It doesn’t make any sense for you to go back to Eliot when you can just sleep here.”

“Mark,” Eduardo gaped as Mark slid decisively out of his flannel pants and crawled over Eduardo to lay against the wall.

“If you’re going to sleep in your Dockers that’s your stupid prerogative Wardo, but at least move so we can get under the covers.” Mark smirked triumphantly into the pillow when Eduardo stood silently to strip to his briefs and crawled back in bed.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Eduardo whispered when Mark pulled the covers to their neck.

“I wish you would shut up and go the fuck to sleep,” Mark grumbled in the dark.

FILL: 5 currently untitled cuddles, Eduardo/Mark 3.1/5

Mark’s feelings on Roberto Saverin were decidedly easy. He wanted, desperately sometimes, to set him on fire.

Mark had been attending classes more diligently. It had to do with Eduardo’s warm brown eyes, and imploring personality and an attendance-based sticker chart that included alcoholic rewards.

All of this to say, Mark wasn’t actually there to witness the beginning of the current episode of “I am your father for loosely defined reasons I have called to reduce your net-worth to something equivalent to the mold growing on Dustin’s abandoned hot chocolate.”

The catalyst for this particular ass-chewing was a C.

Mark tapped the keys on his keyboard with slightly more force than necessary while he silently listed the reasons this was ridiculous. It wasn’t even on a test, not even on something that matters. Something that carried weight in the grand scheme of life. It was on a pretest, a fake test. He slammed his thumb against the spacebar. It was in Macro Economics. Mark snorted, people didn’t fucking take Macro Economics at Harvard for an easy A or a good time. People took Macro Economics because, well fuck, Mark didn’t actually know why the hell you took Macro Economics. But Wardo did.

And in the other room Wardo was on the phone, his voice taking on the meek and shaking quality that never failed to make Mark viciously angry.

When he slid his headphones off an hour later the room was quiet. From his desk chair Mark leaned back to look through the door. Eduardo was off the phone, curled on the couch with his eyes closed. Chris was sitting in the chair closest to Wardo’s head, a cross-legged sentinel, book on his lap and highlighter in hand, the ambient light made his hair a glowing golden crown.

Eduardo barely stirred when Chris checked his watch, closed the book and disappeared out of Mark’s sight. He wandered back into the frame with his coat on and pulled the afghan from the back of the couch to drape it over Eduardo’s prone form.

He turned and gave Mark one long and meaningful look before he disappeared again, the click of the front door strangely audible in the otherwise stony silence.

Mark stood from his chair, stretching to crack his stiff back and gathered a notebook, the wrinkled pages of his most recent problem set and a pen from his backpack. In the common room he dropped his stack lightly on Chris’ abandoned chair and fished a Red Bull from the back of the fridge, a package of strawberry poptarts from the counter next to the microwave.

FILL: 5 currently untitled cuddles, Eduardo/Mark 3.2/5

When Eduardo woke, Mark sent him to the shower, bleary eyed and muzzy from being upset and sleeping through the late afternoon into evening.

They lay curled together without pretense in Mark’s bed. Eduardo casual for once in black briefs and a soft gray t-shirt Mark had thrown over the sink.

“I want to make him proud,” Eduardo’s voice was quiet in the darkness. Still weak in a way that made Mark want to throw things against the wall. “You understand,” He tucked his head against Mark’s shoulder, his eyelashes heavy shadows against his cheeks.

“No,” Mark’s voice was sharp and when Eduardo drew a shaky breath he helplessly rubbed a soothing hand up and down Eduardo’s back. “I don’t understand how someone who is supposed to love you could ever make you feel this way.”

“He has high expectations,” Eduardo protested.

“So did Hitler. It didn’t end well for him.” Mark smirked, supremely satisfied with his metaphor.

“Mark,” Eduardo gave a watery smile and pressed his lips against Mark’s collar bone. “He wants me to be the best I can be.”

“I,” Mark paused, “I actually believe that. With a qualifier Wardo, because I believe in accuracy.” Mark licked his lips, stilled his hand. “He wants you to be the best you can be, for him.”

In the silence that followed Mark inventoried the thin cotton under his fingers, analyzed the warmth of Eduardo’s skin seeping through, listened to the quiet hum of the dorm around them.

“I don’t want to fight about it,” Eduardo’s voice cracked.

“This isn’t a fight,” Mark protested, “this is a conversation. Wardo, if you think this is fighting you aren’t really Jewish. If we were fighting there would be significantly more yelling. Also throwing things.”

FILL: your bones have been my bed frame 4.1/5

Despite the blooming dorm room business venture that was TheFacebook Eduardo had a different definition of “what must be done.” He still felt it was necessary to attend classes, and shower, and complete his reading and homework, and eat on a regular basis, and sleep.

The dark circles under Mark’s eyes made him look like someone had punched him, twice. Mark had a slightly different definition of “what must be done.”

He had tried to explain it, tried to enumerate the feeling of code buzzing under his skin, the shiver of opportunity and of accomplishment, but now Eduardo was standing in front of him, eyes flashing with rage, hands gesturing wildly while holding a half-full beer, finely-shaped mouth forming what he recognized as words, many of which appeared to be his name.

Mark would never reveal to anyone, but angry Wardo was close to his favorite Wardo. Since meeting Wardo, Mark had spent an extensive amount of time drinking, playing video games and categorizing his opinions on Eduardo’s moods. It turned out that snapping brown eyes and a firmly set jaw were somewhat of a turn-on.

Suddenly the words had volume and Mark raised his hands from the keys, his sleep deprived brain struggled to put the clues together as to where exactly the Foo Fighters had gone, and why they had been replaced with Eduardo’s low and angry voice.

Moments later Mark found himself stranded in the suite’s bathroom with a still-angry Wardo. He focused on Eduardo’s words for a minute, trying to figure out how they got to the bathroom and what exactly they were doing there.

“Are you going to shower with me?” Mark quirked an eyebrow, putting the clues together. Away from the friendly florescent glow of his monitor his body felt heavy with the weight of exhaustion. His bare feet slid restlessly along the cold tile floor while Eduardo glared at him. “Because that would be OK.”

“I’m going to stand right here while you shower,” Eduardo set his beer down on the counter and reached for the hem of Mark’s t-shirt. “Because you are going to fall asleep in the shower, hit your head on the wall and drown in 2 inches of water in the bathtub.”

“That’s less fun than my idea,” Mark pouted as he helped to tug the stretched neck of the t-shirt over his head. “My idea ends in orgasms instead of death. Orgasms are a mutually beneficial byproduct of showering together.”

FILL: your bones have been my bed frame 4.2/5

“It worries me that someone can be as sleep deprived as you are and smell as horrifying as you do while simultaneously using the phrase mutually beneficial.” Eduardo countered as he reached for the toothpaste.

“It worries me that you’re turning down an orgasm,” Mark snorted as he accepted the now toothpaste-laden toothbrush and dunked it under the running faucet.

“Brush,” Eduardo threaded his fingers through Mark’s curls and pressed their lips roughly together, “I’ll be right back.” With a flash of teeth he ducked out of the bathroom and Mark rested his head against the wall, hand maneuvering the toothbrush mechanically.

In the bedroom Eduardo pulled open the window, letting the scent of stale beer and Red Bull and stinky boy be sucked out by biting cold Cambridge air. He saved Mark’s code and shut down his computer. He gauged his time, draped his jacket over the back of the desk chair, slid his shoes next to the desk and un-tucked his standard button-down shirt. He drew a quick breath of fresh air, shook the covers of the bed into some semblance of order, shut the window and returned to the bathroom.

Mark sat on the closed toilet, a fleck of toothpaste on his cheek, head tucked against his chest, snoring lightly. Eduardo turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature before turning back to Mark.

“C’mon baby,” Eduardo gathered Mark into his arms and pulled him to his feet.

“Tired Wardo,” Mark was at his most petulant in these tired moments between code and sleep, slumped against Eduardo’s chest, rubbing his nose against his once crisp shirt.

“Just a shower, Mark,” Eduardo helped Mark shuck his pants and in sleepy slow motion guided him into the shower. “Don’t forget to wash your hair and use soap and then we can go to bed.”

“You’re staying,” Mark’s voice matter of fact as it bounced off the tiles.

“I’m staying,” Eduardo confirmed, “mainly because I want you to get a whole nights sleep and I’m starting to feel like I’m going to have to hold you down to make that happen.”

“Kinky,” Mark’s watery reflection through the shower door washed its hair and Eduardo boosted up onto the counter, swinging his legs against the cabinet and sipping his beer.

“You got him to shower,” Chris nodded toward the running water and leaned against the door jam.

FILL: your bones have been my bed frame author!anon notes

1. Thank you for sticking with me! This section fought, fought, FOUGHT me. And thank you for your lovely comments and title suggestions and encouragement. Y'all are the greatest.2. This is going to end up being 6 parts. And the next part is going to be a little angst-y - please, please don't worry. I'm going to make it better, but first it has to get ugly.3. [apparently I can't count] I'm done for tonight. So don't freak out, the angst is a couple of days out yet :)

FILL: your bones have been my bed frame 5.1/6

The last time was the only time they disappeared to Eliot instead of into Mark’s cluttered bedroom in Kirkland.

Mark spent years looking back. He recalled that one night in his life over and over again and wondered if he would have done things differently. Had he known it would be the last time. He liked to think he would have paid more attention, could have chosen to commit the little moments to memory.

They escaped from the chaos of packing, of Dustin’s panic that they were finally, actually doing it, probably dropping out of school and chasing the sun and their dreams west. They left Chris and his meticulously organized lists and his concerned eyebrows for Eduardo headed to New York instead of Palo Alto. A light spring rain fell as they jogged across the quad, dodging the puddles that cluttered the sidewalk. Mark shoved his hands in his pockets and ducked under Eduardo’s arm and through the open door.

Eliot was quiet. So quiet it freaked Mark out – full of singles and studious upper-classman it seemed almost tomb-like. There was no tinny video game music from beyond doors propped open with half-empty beer cases, no random yelling between roommates and neighbors, no walls shaking along with a misplaced bass line.

The halls were empty, lined with sound deadening carpet and uniformly spaced, closed doors. Their footsteps were soundless, Eduardo rested a hand against the small of his back and they walked slowly down the hall toward Eduardo’s room.

Eduardo’s single always seemed infinitely more grown up than a dorm room. His bed was always made, suits hung evenly in the closet, books lined up straight on the shelf above his desk, his room was lit not by harsh overhead lights but by the soft incandescent light from a desk light in the corner.

When the door swung shut Eduardo crowded Mark against the door to kiss him softly. He smiled – his face stretching wide - when Mark followed his lips reaching on tip-toe to seal their lips together for another moment.

Later – this was the kiss Mark remembered. The kiss his brain unwittingly returned to in distracted moments, across conference room tables and during late-night coding sessions. He made comparisons at inopportune moments and rubbed fingers across his lips in inappropriate situations.

He remembered soft lips, Eduardo’s hands planted on either side of his head, curled against his neck. He remembered chasing the taste of spearmint gum with his tongue and Eduardo’s sigh when their lips parted. He remembered warm brown eyes and his hands resting on Eduardo’s hips and their foreheads pressed together.

FILL: your bones have been my bed frame 5.2/6

Eduardo’s bed was equivalently grown up. Soft sheets that always smelled clean and a fluffy down comforter and clean white king-sized pillows that bore no resemblance to the yellowing, lumpy, drool-stained pillows that often found their way to Mark’s floor.

He won’t spend time dwelling on sex. For whatever reason in the future he would be able to put sex fully out of his mind, as though there was a switch somewhere, an internal control of exactly how much his mind was able to handle. And sex and that particular memory was the thing to overload it.

They didn’t race to pull each others clothes this time. The surreal, almost heavy quiet of Eliot begged them to take their time. Their bodies slid against each other. Eduardo’s warm hands skated across Mark’s shoulders and down his arms while his lips pressed kisses down Mark’s spine.

Eduardo drew a deep breath before he slid his fingers home. Mark hung his head between his hands and drifted on the stretch of Eduardo’s fingers, the quiet murmured encouragement as his body yielded.

It felt like the burn stretched eternal as Eduardo pulled his fingers free and used them to nimbly open the condom. Mark shifted restlessly against the sheets, the cool brush of sheets torture against his Wardo-warmed skin.

“Roll over,” Eduardo whispered, dropping the condom wrapper over the edge of the bed. Mark flipped quickly, flashing a grin at Eduardo’s dark eyes and finger tousled hair. He ran his hand lightly over Eduardo’s stomach, caught a drop of pre-come from above his belly button and drew back to suck it off his thumb.

“Jesus,” Eduardo groaned, pushing forward to spread Mark’s legs more widely. “Your fucking mouth.” He slid his fingers back in for one hot minute when Mark nipped at the pad of his own thumb and looked up through hooded eyes.

“Please,” Mark gave up the pretense of teasing and dug his fingers into Eduardo’s sides. Pulled him closer until their bodies pressed together, until Eduardo’s gasp and the arch of Mark’s back signaled the return of the burn Mark was so quickly becoming addicted to the stunning mix of pleasure and pain that came with this new and mostly unexplored area of their relationship.

But still they didn’t sprint to the finish line. Eduardo still found it within himself to press his mouth, open and gasping against Mark’s neck, to bury a hand deep in Mark’s sweaty curls while Mark bit lightly at Eduardo’s rippling shoulders, fingers digging in his flexing biceps as he held himself above Mark. Eduardo’s hips picked up a shuddering, stuttering rhythm of thrust and arch until Mark clamped tightly around him.